Friday, 3 May 2019


I described this poem in it's original draft as a moment of satori, which it is. However, when I can to read it aloud I could not get my mouth around the word simulacrum, which instantly told me I need to ditch the line, never mind the word.
Thanks to Secret Poets for their insight once again.

One of Life's Special Days

That we should decide to cross the border
is hardly surprising,
we live in the debatable lands.

Twelve hour passes are all that’s on offer,
because our lives are lived
inside the movements of our favourite clocks.
Still we hope for something built to last.

Days like this prompt memories,
because in this place words reveal their power,
between the shafts of light
between the notes from the turntable
between the breaths that form the words.

In the quiet of our return a song plays
that was written after you died,
yet I know you are in the room,
have followed us back across the lines,
wearing a sad smile for what might have been,
gently I move to kiss your memory.

I've been listening to a lot of Iberian music recently, especially Ketama and their collaboration Songhai. Here's Jarabi.

Songhai were amazing, the combination of musicians just works.
Electrica Dharma have become a firm favourite in our house recently.

Until next time.

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